


Nightmares and Nappies

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Diapers, Embarrassment, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Doctor solves a frustrating problem with something fluffy and absorbent.





	Nightmares and Nappies

The Doctor wasn’t usually someone who exploited his super biology. Okay, yes, maybe he chose to gamble on his bladder, and not pee before adventures, _ occasionally, _ but he respected the rest of his traits completely. For instance, he didn’t ever skip a night’s sleep, despite needing it less. 

Besides, if something could have a shot at figuring out why the Ood kept calling him and Donna “DoctorDonna”, it was his subconscious. With that, he climbed into bed, slowly drifting off. 

After what only seemed like seconds, the Doctor was struck by a nightmare. He was in the void, hovering. Gallifrey was on his left, with his mother screaming his name. On the right was Earth, where all of his friends were being threatened by an army of Daleks. He felt a lump in his chest. _ Or was it further south? _ He supercharged himself with regeneration energy, and struck down all the Daleks, but realised that he’d blown Gallifrey away in the process. He felt radiation from one single Dalek he’d missed, hit him, and quickly shot it out of his foot and he hobbled quickly away. Right before he began crying, the Doctor’s eyes shot open. He woke up. 

The Doctor took deep breaths and waited for his heartbeats to slow down. As soon as they did, the room turned so silent, he realised he was wet. He looked down. A big wet spot was on his crotch as well as the bedsheets. It didn’t smell like _ sweat _. He pushed his abdomen cautiously. It felt floppy, empty. Which meant, his bladder had emptied. 

There was no longer any doubt. The nightmare had made the Doctor wet the bed. 

The Doctor jumped out of bed in complete disbelief. _ How? _ He wasn’t a child. He was 904 years old, educated at the Academy. He drove his own TARDIS. He was _ so very far _ past the justifiable age for having _ accidents _ at night. He sighed and blushed with his eyes closed. 

With his distress gone, the Doctor remembered he wasn’t alone in the TARDIS anymore. Donna was there. What was he going to do? He needed to change the bedding, but how could he, without waking her. His options limited to the single one, the Doctor quietly stripped the bed, bundled it up and equally quietly, stepped into the hallway.

The Doctor muttered ‘No More,” to himself as a form of self-discipline while passing by Donna’s room. The noise woke her up.

“Doctor? What are doing out of bed?” she asked, once she opened the door and spotted the Time Lord. The Doctor quickly hid the laundry behind his back. 

“Just had some laundry to take care off,” he stated, hoping she would leave it at that. She didn’t.

“At 2 in the morning?” Donna rubbed her eyes in tired confusion.

“Yeah,” the Doctor hoped he wasn’t being too suspicious. 

An idea struck Donna which inspired her to take a closer look at what the Doctor was obscuring from view, behind his back. It looked like bundled up bedsheets. 

  
“Doctor.” she put her hand on his shoulder, giving him a look of kindness.

“Did you wet the bed?” Donna asked. The Doctor’s face flushed and he looked away, in utter humiliation. 

  
“Er, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” he apologized, confirming her suspicion.

“Oh, Spaceman, I don’t care. You were really scared, fear can have side-effects,” she assured him, hugging him tightly. 

Donna followed the Doctor to the laundry room.

Unsurprisingly, the experience of _ causing _ Pompeii triggered nightmares for the Doctor. He saw himself at the top of the volcano, while gallons of lava poured down onto the people of Pompeii. He saw rivers of blood on Gallifrey, gold melting off of the Citadel, pouring into the Cloisters. Meanwhile, something was _ indeed _ pouring onto the Doctor’s bedsheets. The heat of these moments woke the Doctor. He jumped out bed, quick as a cat, when he felt the same moisture under him. 

“No, no, no, no no..,” he muttered to himself sadly.

Carefully, he snuck out of his room and walked to the laundry room. Hearing his moaning, Donna walked out and found the Doctor’s door open. It didn’t take a genius to know where he went. To wash his sheets..

“Doctor? What’s going on with you?” Donna asked him, having waited. She knew it wouldn’t stop unless they figured out what caused it. 

“I don’t know. Second nightmare, second accident,” the Doctor replied with a shrug.

“Tell me about the dreams,” Donna requested. They sat down on a sofa, and he described them to her.

*******

“Well, I don’t think they’ll just disappear..best thing we can do is two things,” Donna introduced. The Doctor perked his ears, like a dog. 

“Firstly, when we’re travelling, I want you to tell me when you're scared, and why. That way, no suppressed fear haunting your subconscious,”

The Doctor looked hesitant, but nodded. “Now, you’re gonna absolutely refuse the second thing,” Donna warned, knowingly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow warily. Donna pulled out a big plastic package from her purse. 

  
“I got these from the TARDIS medbay,” she explained. 

The Doctor raised both eyebrows, nearly to the ceiling as he read the label. His hair appeared to move an inch upwards, sticking up even more than it already did. 

He jumped up from the sofa, hid behind it and pointed at it in combined fright and disgust. 

“Put those back where you found them, right now!” he demanded.

Donna sighed. “The best thing we can do, is to make you more comfortable while it’s happening. It’s not gonna magically stop,” Donna argued. She took out an large diaper and shoved in the Doctor’s hands. She looked at him with extremely understanding eyes. “Just try them on, just for tonight,” she asked. The Doctor nodded glumly and walked to his room to sleep. 

During the night, the Doctor had another dream. Not a nightmare, a dream. He was sitting by a gorgeous waterfall, on a thick tree branch. A giant eagle sat down next to him, nudging him with its right-wing, for him to move off the branch. But he just slid closer to the tree, until there was barely any room left for him. With a threatening claw partially pushing into his thigh, the Doctor felt an intense need to pee. Not wanting to give up his spot, he simply unzipped, and let go, peeing a long stream down onto the grass below. Sitting for a bit with a smug look on his face, the Doctor was suddenly pushed off by the eagle’s majestic wing, falling down into the wet grass. The Doctor put his hands on his bum to wipe off the wet grass, but found that he was completely dry. While pondering this, he woke up, in his bed, on the TARDIS. The mystery remained, as the Doctor found his bed as dry as his clothes in the dream. He checked underneath himself, and was instantly reminded of what he was _ wearing _ . He felt the diaper. A glimmer of hope occurred to him. The Doctor stepped into the bathroom, and took off the diaper. He took a deep breath, to keep his spirit up, as the diaper _ was wet _. Angry with himself, the Doctor wished desperately that he had jumped down from the tree in his dream. Maybe the impacted could’ve woken him earlier. Then, he found himself wondering why he didn’t. There had been very little room for him on that branch..He remembered, that he hadn’t wished to leave the tree. Made sense, not wanting to leave the bed, just like he didn’t tend to want to leave a great adventure, or delay it, by going to the loo while awake. 

All of a sudden, it clicked. A calculation appeared in his head. Every single occurrence of bed-wetting happened exactly 3 days after a trip to the loo while awake. Had he been awake, and Donna still asleep, he would’ve gone to the toilet immediately. The Doctor ran out of his room to wake Donna. The fury of a human was worth it. 

  
“What the blazes is going on?” Donna muttered, rubbing her eyes. In front of her, was a grinning Time Lord. Even stranger, a _ widely _ grinning Time Lord.

“Did you wake me up just to say how great the night pants worked. ‘Cause most people save that info for breakfast,” Donna reminded him. 

“No, they just saved my sheets. I found out why I’ve been wetting the bed!” The Doctor cheered. 

“And why’s that then?” Donna asked, encouraging his happiness. Anything was better than the Doctor being embarrassed for something he couldn’t help. 

“It’s simple biology. It’s happened at the exact time I’d normally have to pee, if I’d been awake. I completely didn’t realize that just because I don’t have to go during a day, doesn’t mean it’s magically gone less time since I last went,” The Doctor explained. They both decided to sit down in the living room. 

* * *

“So, how can you make sure to remember if it’s been 3 days, right before bed?” Donna asked. 

The Doctor racked his brain for a bit, then grabbed a watch from one of the round sliding cupboards in the wall. It contained a small red watch, which he put on his left wrist. 

“Remember I told you Rose gave this to me?” he presented the watch to Donna. She nodded in recognition. 

“By always having that on my wrist, I’ll be able to check it before bed, and if it’s only a few hours counting down on it, it means I need to go before sleep.” The Doctor stated. 

* * *

3 nights later, The Doctor didn’t wet the bed. Nor did he 3 days after that. Because he had been the loo before bed. Every time. And even some extra times while awake, when he’d normally hold it in, for _ way too long _. And all was well. 

*insert Ood Song*


End file.
